Fears
by Elennare
Summary: "I came to see you when there's no use pretending / Let's hope it's a happier ending" (Missing, Eliza Doolittle). Jane confides a dark worry to Lisbon. Spoilers for 2x08, 4x24.


AN: Written for the September challenge at Paint It Red; prompt: fifth random song, in this case "Missing", by Eliza Doolittle.  
Unbeta'ed - concrit most welcome!

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"You do know I'd let you in if you knocked, right?" Lisbon asked, not particularly surprised to find Jane already sitting on her couch when she unlocked her office door.

"Meh. Picking the lock was faster than waiting, not to mention more amusing. Coffee?" Getting to his feet as he spoke, he offered her a steaming cup.

Leaving her things on her desk, she took it and sipped carefully. "Was there a particular reason you broke into my office, or were you just bored?"

She almost hoped it was the latter; a particular reason would almost certainly be yet another idea on how they could persuade the FBI to let them interrogate Lorelei. She'd only just managed to talk them out of arresting him last time.

"Well, there's... something we need to talk about."

Her heart didn't skip a beat. Of course it didn't. That would have been absurd. More than likely he'd somehow got himself into trouble – _again_ – and needed her to smooth things over. Yes, that would be it.

She sighed. "I might have known the coffee was a bribe. Who have you mortally offended this time?"

He pulled a face. "How little faith you have in me, Lisbon. It wasn't a bribe, simply a friendly gesture, and I haven't offended anyone, mortally or otherwise..." he trailed off, hesitating for a few seconds before quietly adding "it's about Red John."

As if saying the name had galvanized him, he continued quickly. "I think you're in danger from him. He must know now that I – that I care about you, and that makes you a target."

Lisbon took another sip of her coffee, buying time to think. The halting admission of caring had surprised her almost as much as his worries, and brought up vivid memories of his hurried words right before her faked shooting. She knew trying to turn the conversation in that direction wouldn't be successful, though, so she kept those thoughts to herself and focussed on his fears.

"You didn't take him my head in a box, Jane. That's something I hope you wouldn't do regardless of whose head it was, not a declaration of passion," she finally said. Passion? Why had she said that? Caring, she'd meant to say... Wishful thinking, whispered a little voice in her head that she most definitely wasn't listening to.

"He was testing me, Lisbon. Testing whether I cared more about his death or your life, and now he knows the answer, there's no use pretending that he doesn't. You're in danger."

The haunted look on his face pulled at her heart.

"I don't think - " she began, but he cut her off.

"Kristina – "

"Kristina spoke about him on television, I have no intention of doing that!" she interrupted in turn.

Taking a deep breath, she continued more gently. "I understand why you're worried, Jane, but I truly don't think you need to be."

He shook his head. "Lisbon, I didn't tell you this so you could reassure me that things will be all right, the way you used to with your brothers. I'm not a scared child. I want you to think about it, really think about it, let yourself believe I might be right, then tell me what you honestly think."

How had he done that? Known that she'd been thinking it felt absurdly like being a teenager again, reassuring her brothers that yes, things will work out in the end, really they will? Never mind how he'd done it, he was right. Staring at the floor, so she wouldn't have to see the look in his eyes, she did as he asked. Examined the possibility that he might be right. She had to acknowledge to herself that, terrifying as it was, it was a possibility.

Meeting his eyes again, she answered slowly. "It's not impossible, Jane. I admit that. But it's always been a risk, from the moment we took the Red John case, that he'd kill someone on the team. We've been hunting him for years now, and he hasn't." Sam Bosco's face looked at her mockingly deep inside her mind, but she didn't – couldn't afford to – dwell on it. "Why should that change now? What purpose what it would serve? What he wants is you on the case, and he's got that."

She saw the beginnings of hope in his face, and pressed on. "I can't promise I'll be safe, we hunt criminals for a living, but you asked me to tell you what I honestly think. Well, I honestly don't think I'm in any more danger now from Red John than I've ever been."

"Really?" There were so many emotions in his voice, and she wished she had his skills to decode them all.

"Really," she answered.

Someone knocked on the door, and they both started.

"Come in!" Lisbon called, taking a self-conscious step away from Jane and wondering how she hadn't noticed how close they'd been standing.

Van Pelt opened the door tentatively. "Boss? Sorry to bother you, but we've got a new case..."

"We'll be right out."

Van Pelt nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Lisbon began to walk towards it, but was stopped by Jane's hand on her arm.

"I promised you once I'd always save you, Teresa. That's still true. It will always be true." The intensity of his gaze made her catch her breath.

She could say something light and flippant. She could point out how many times she'd had to run in, gun at the ready, to save him. She couldn't. It wouldn't be right.

"I hope neither of us ever needs it, but you know I'll always save you."

She wanted to say something more, but she couldn't find the words. Instead, she took his hand and squeezed it gently, sealing the promise. They'd always take care of each other, and maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right in the end. Maybe they'd have a chance at a happy ending.


End file.
